


Playacting

by Ramblingnic



Category: Harry Potter RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, M/M, Tom Felton is 17, character incest, forced silence, in character sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:52:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramblingnic/pseuds/Ramblingnic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason and Tom get close during the filming of Goblet of Fire, but their characters get even closer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playacting

**Author's Note:**

> Transferred from LJ - originally published in 2007.

The pathway up to the top boxes was cramped, and crowded with people. Considering the cost of the seats, Lucius had supposed that there would be provisions made to bypass the public areas. Instead, they found themselves pressed in against the type of riffraff which he was normally able to avoid.

“Blimey dad, how far up are we,” cried one of the boys in the group above them. A group which appeared to consist almost entirely of Arthur Weasley’s spawn. He couldn’t help but cast a snarky comment in their direction, a sort of revenge for the last set of Ministry raids. “Let’s put it this way, if it rains, you’ll be the first to know.” Not wanting to waste anymore time in such company, Lucius quickly threw his cape out behind him, and continued along the narrow iron catwalk. 

“Father and I are in the Minister’s Box, by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself.” The mocking drawl of his only son drifted out from behind his back, reminding Lucius of the boy’s presence. He turned quickly, bringing the butt end of his cane into Draco’s chest, stopping him in his tracks. The contact was sharp, and the boy’s blue-grey eyes watered, as he brought an arm up protectively. Lucius froze, staring at Draco’s hand on his own chest, as the seconds ticked by.

“Jason?” The silent stare was finally broken, as he looked toward the lights, shielding his eyes with his free hand. “Jason, love, it’s a continuous shot. It looked like we lost you for a moment there.” He was suddenly very aware of his surroundings, and was grateful for the thick makeup that hid the blush rising to his cheeks. “So sorry, Mike,” he called out to the voice beyond the lights. “Tom here is just too good an actor. For a moment, I thought I’d hurt him.” Tom’s head lowered, a more noticeable blush rising to his own face. Dan and Rupert seemed to find the whole situation quite funny, and began to giggle, breaking the tension for the rest of the crew.

“Not a problem Jason,” the director called out, over the sound of the wind machines. “Let’s just take it back from Tom’s line then, shall we?” They all quickly fell back to their places, and began the shot again. Tom delivered his line just as flawlessly the second go, cueing Jason to bring the cane around, and up again. Only this time, something was wrong. Tom overstepped his mark and the cane struck him forcefully in the chest, the gasp from him audible even over all of the noise. Jason immediately dropped the cane, and rushed to the boy’s side. 

“Cut! Cut!” A small caravan of assistants and handlers converged on the pair, but Jason kept a firm grasp on the younger actor’s arm. “Are you alright Tom?” The boy gave him a small smile, and a half-nod, even as the tears streamed down his face. Mike pushed his way through the group and took one look at Tom. “Susan, will you help him to his trailer, and get some water into him?! We’ll move onto the next shots, and finish this up later.” A petite brunette, in a set of garish looking heels made her way toward them. “No,” Tom whispered hoarsely. “Jason. Jason can take me.” At least three dozen sets of eyes were set on him immediately, startling him. “I.. yes, of course I can. You don’t need me anymore do you Mike?” he asked. “Hell no,” the director shouted. “We’ll call you back at four. Somebody just get the kid to his trailer.” Trying to avoid the snarky looks from the assistant, Jason scooped an arm around Tom’s waist and led him, gingerly, over to the trailers. 

Despite his shrinking role as the films went on, Tom was still one of the biggest draws. The Felton Fangirls, as the Phelps twins referred to them. As such, his trailer was nearly as big as Jason’s first house. He settled the boy down on the overstuffed sofa, before wandering over to the kitchenette, and grabbing two bottles of water. He passed one over, and sat down on the other end of the sofa. “I am so sorry Tom. I certainly didn’t mean to hit you so hard.” 

“Nah, it wasn’t you, it was me. I didn’t hit the mark right.” Tom gave a shy smile, and lowered his head. Jason’s breath quickened. He was such a lovely boy, and had grown so much in the past few years. Jason found himself trying to remember just how old Tom was, and then trying desperately to shake the thought out of his head. Tom winced as he tried to shrug his jacket off of his shoulders. “Here,” Jason whispered, leaning over to help him. “I can get that for you.” He slipped the thick cotton blazer off, and folded it over the top of the sofa. 

“Are you really alright?” he questioned sincerely. “You don’t need the medical staff?” Tom blushed again, and Jason suddenly found it necessary to rearrange his robes over his lap. Perhaps it had been the wrong decision to bring Tom here alone. The boy was still so young. The robes suddenly hid very little, as Tom stretched out, wincing again as he stripped off the form-fitting black shirt of his costume. “Well he may be young,” he thought to himself, “But he’s no boy.” Indeed, the young man’s figure, although still somewhat gangly, had filled out substantially since the last film.

“See…” Tom purred, taking Jason’s hand and placing it on the smooth expanse of his chest. “It’s fine. Nothing a little time won’t heal. That is of course, unless you want to kiss it better.” He was close… so close…. Far too close for it to be possible to hide his body’s own reaction. “Now Tom,” he said clearly, his voice quite a bit less forceful than he would have hoped. “I’m not sure that this is the best idea. Perhaps if you’re feeling better, I should be going.”

“No. please,” a pale hand grasped firmly at his wrist. Tom’s eyes seem to burn into his own. “Please…. Father.” The words went straight to his cock. How could he know? There was no way. He had done everything to ensure that their relationship was strictly professional. The look of shock and surprise must have shown on his face, as he sputtered. “No, no Tom, we can’t you’re..”

“I’m what?” the boy questioned, still holding lightly to his co-star’s wrist. “I’m seventeen? I’m playing your son? I know all of that, Jason.” His eyes gleamed with a look that was half hunger, yet half hesitation, his youth still showing through. “I missed you on the last film,” he admitted, shyly. “It wasn’t the same without you.” Jason nearly moaned at Tom’s confession. How could the boy seem so innocent, and yet so full of lustful promise? He wasted to respond, to tell Tom that despite his best effort, he had missed him too, but the tightness in his throat wouldn’t let the words come.

“But father,” Tom continued. Or was it Draco? Yes, it was most certainly Draco. “You must be quite heated in such heavy robes.” He nodded, unconsciously lifting to allow his son to remove them. He closed his eyes, leaning back and surrendering to the sensation, as nimble fingers quickly worked open the buttons of his shirt. Draco was in his lap now, the boy’s hardened cock brushing against his own, through the remaining layers of cloth. Lucius couldn’t help but gasp, his eyes flying open as his son thrust hesitantly against him. As the shockwaves passed, a small smile crept over his face.

“Now, now, Draco. A boy of your age should have greater self-control than this,” he crooned, stroking back a lock of white-blond hair, kept shorter than his own. Draco’s eyes met his own, pleading with him. “Please father, teach me. Please show me how,” he begged, burying his face in the crook of his father’s neck.

“Yes, my precious boy,” Lucius hissed softly, scooping up the lithe form in his lap, and making his way to the small bedroom. It certainly wasn’t up to a Malfoy’s usual standards, but it would have to do. He settled Draco back onto the thick down comforter, but couldn’t bring himself to undress him further. Draco lay, as if sleeping, his hair spilling softly onto the pillow, his milk white skin almost glowing in the dim light. For a moment, Jason paused. Tom was still so young, and yet, he wanted this more than ever, nearly as much as the Lucius, inside him, wanted his Draco. The boy had begged him, called him “father.” He knew that there was no fighting it, not when the same thoughts swirled wildly in both of their minds.

Sensing the stillness, Tom sat up on the bed. The one remaining question hovered in the air between them, unspoken, until Jason finally broke the silence. “You are sure this is what you want?” “More than anything,” Tom replied. A brief moment passed before Jason’s face transformed, a look of pure power and control coming over him. “Then undress me, remove your own clothes, and lay back on the bed.”

Draco did as he was told, with shaking fingers, folding each item over the bottom footboard, before finally reclining back into the pillows. The room was already unusually warm, but his entire body shivered, none the less. It came as a shock to Lucius when he finally settled atop the boy. Draco’s cock was already steel hard and leaking, and his son’s responsiveness nearly drove him over the edge without a single touch to his own throbbing member. 

“Please father,” the child begged, his voice high and needy. “Please I need you too…” His twisted his legs behind the older man’s back, forcing their bodies together. Quickly, he found himself forced back onto the bed, his father’s hand pressing him sharply down. “What have I told you?” Lucius hissed. “Is this the face that you would show the wizarding world? No control, begging for the smallest pleasure?” Draco’s head hung, as his face flushed bright red. “No father,” he whispered softly. “I’m sorry father.”

“Your apologies will do you little good with me,” Lucius retorted, nearly sneering at his son, still spread out beneath him. “Perhaps if you cannot use your mouth for anything other than begging, I should use it for something else instead. Now..” he murmured, looking straight into the grey-blues eyes, staring up at him. “Silencio!” For a split second, he saw a look of fear and questioning flicker through those same eyes. The look then transformed to one of pure lust, and he roughly thrust two fingers into the boy’s open mouth. Draco suckled happily on the digits, his small tongue whispering lightly around and between them, slicking them with his own saliva. He was so taken with the task that he nearly whimpered when they were removed. Lucius occupied Draco’s mouth, as he had promised, with a bruising kiss, while his hand trailed down the writhing body beneath him. 

The intake of breath was audible, as he gently circled the boy’s entrance, dipping the tip of his finger inside and then pulling out again. Lucius smiled at the reaction. “That’s better,” he crooned. “There is no failure in pleasure, simply at not being able to control how you react to it. Pleasure is power, son. Remember that.” Draco nodded silently, still under the spell’s command, and unable to speak. And how Jason wanted to hear him speak, to hear the small sounds of lust stream from him, but Lucius would not allow it, and in the struggle between them, Lucius won. “Now Draco,” Lucius asked calmly. “Do you have anything to make this easier for you?” Draco paused, sensing his father test. He nodded again, motioning toward the bedside table, still not making a sound. Lucius smiled down at him. “Good boy.” 

Leaning to the side, he slid open the drawer, finding a small jar of lube, with the seal still in place. Removing the lid, he dipped his fingers into the thick liquid and returned to circling the boy’s tight, if eager hole. Although Lucius would be satisfied with taking the boy rough and hard, Jason did not want to hurt him, and on this point he would not bend. One finger slid in easily, and Draco’s face flushed bright red, his skin of his lip nearly breaking as he bit down hard. The strain of staying silent was evident on his face, and Lucius was pleased to hear nothing but the slow creak of the bed. A second finger was added, forcing Draco’s body up from the bed, his back arching. Lucius slowly worked the fingers back and forth, feeling the smoothness of Draco’s tight arse gripping him, and then slowly loosening.

Finally, slipping his fingers from his son, Lucius ran a handful of the lube over his own cock. Pulling Draco’s legs further around him, he pushed gently against the opening, moaning as the flesh gave way, and he sunk into the tight heat. Draco looked like an angel below him. It could have been easier for the boy from behind, but there was no way that he would have missed this. The look on his only child’s face, as his virgin arse was breached, as he began to unravel. And Draco was unraveling, with every thrust. What had started as a slow burn, quickly became a fire, deep in his belly, and he wanted to beg for more. The pain didn’t come from his father’s hard cock, which seemed to tear him in two. Instead it came from the spell, which kept him silent. The word of his father, which was law, and would be obeyed.

Lucius too, was quickly losing control, as he thrust deeper and deeper, forcing the breath out of the boy below him, with every stroke. Draco’s throbbing cock pressed hard between their bodies, having not yet been touched by either of them. “Yeessss my sweet boy,” Lucius purred, stroking the child’s cheek, watching the continued strain on his face. “Such an obedient child you are.” His movements grew harder, faster, as he breached the boy’s arse again and again, the sound of flesh on flesh filling the room. “So good. Are you close for me, my precious?” Draco’s mouth opened, but again, no sound issued forth. His eyes squeezed shut giving Lucius all the answer he needed. “Then tell me, my sweet boy. Tell me you want to come for me. Finite Incantatem.”

A wail rose from Draco’s throat. A cry of pain and pleasure, with the promise of release. “Please father,” he pleaded, too far gone to remember his lessons on restraint. “Please, make me come. I need you. Fuck, please…” Spurred on by every moan and whimper that filled the air, Lucius moved faster, angling each thrust until Draco screamed into the pillow. He slipped a hand between then, fisting the hard cock nestled between them. Once, twice, a third time, until Draco suddenly arched, crying out. “Oh god, father, please, yes, I….” The rest of his words were lost, as thick ribbons of come streamed from him, painting across their stomachs, and Lucius’ hand. The feeling of Draco’s spasming hole around his cock sent Lucius over the edge, and he thrust again, harder than before, shooting deep into the boy beneath him. “Yes, my precious. God yes, Dra… Tom!”

Despite his best efforts, Jason collapsed onto the bed, pulling quickly out of the younger man, and rolling onto his side. They laid there in stunned silence, as the panting of their breath evened out slowly. Tom was the first one to break the silence. “Wow, now I wish I really could do a cleansing charm,” he whispered. Jason couldn’t help himself, and the laughter rolled through him. “You are too clever a boy Tom,” he sighed. “How is it that you can endure an old pervert like me.”

“I’ve asked myself the same question, a million times,” Tom answered, rolling onto his side and smiling at the older man, sharing his bed. “And?” Jason asked, smirking. “Well,” Tom replied. “The only answer I can come up with is, it must be a Malfoy thing.” He gave a shriek, as Jason grabbed him by the shoulders, pinning him back to the bed. But try as he might, Lucius was done in for the day, and the power was lost. “Brat,” Jason smirked, trying not to laugh. “Your brat,” the boy corrected. “Your brat, Sir.”


End file.
